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honeysmokedham · 3 days

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Listen Before I Go || Declan & Nora

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Saol Eile, the waterfall PARTIES: Declan and Nora SUMMARY: The young pair confess all under a starry sky. WARNINGS: Implied wrpsice at the end.

Her first love. Her first kiss. Her forever. Far from the town where banshees screamed.

“Declan is going to die in front of you. That’s how it works. You are going to love him, and he will die because of it.”

The words floated in the echo chamber of her mind, they bounced into every corner of her thoughts, repeating themselves into a chorus. Regan's voice overlapped itself, again and again and again. It was loud, drowning out every bit of reason and critical thinking that should have covered it. Upon the departure of that horribly unreasonable conversation with Regan, Hamstring decided to deal with her large, complicated feelings the way she always did. She walked. The steady beat of her boots against the stone streets of Saol Eile were the percussion accompaniment to the chorus in her head.

Hours passed at the same steady pace, the urge to turn into a bear or cast illusions gripped her in a chokehold. Her instincts to rage like the monster she knew herself to be were an overwhelming call to arms. But eventually, the percussion of her boots turned from a war march and into a calm beat. The calmness brought a new understanding. Hamstring realized she knew why she'd allowed Regan to make her so angry. It was two very simple and effective things. Hamstring should be embarrassed for allowing them to cause an unbanshee-like emotional charge from her. The first was she would do the same. During her time here, Hamstring had realized just had similar the two of them are. Both emotionally stunted in ways she didn’t have the emotional intelligence to explain. If the roles had been reversed, and it had been Hamstring stewing in jealousy she would pull out a defense mechanism to deter the assumed competition, just as Regan had.

The second, Regan had put into words what Hamstring had been trying to deny this whole time. She loved Declan. It was new and exhilarating, it was the sensation of flies swarming in her belly and the reason her heart tried to escape its prison when she saw him. Hamstring had run home, the anger replaced by confusion. It was a viper twisting around her chest, constructing her breath and refusing her brain a chance to understand what this realization could mean. Hamstring ran back, fighting the viper with every sharp intake of breath. If Regan could place the emotion she felt, even if it was to deter Hamstring and send her away, then Regan would know what to do next.

Cliodhna’s chair, near the fragrant scent of the bone broth, and in good view of her prized kneecap collection, was empty. That was for the best. Regan and Hamstring would get along better without her there. The door to Regan’s room was wide open, but Hamstring went in anyway. Empty. As well as the bathrooms and the closet. Hamstring made the quick trip to the medical center where Regan worked to find it empty. This was inconceivable. Regan was always around. Now that Hamstring needed her, where was she?

The wait lasted for hours. Cliodhna’s chair remained empty. Regan’s room uninhabited. Hamstring tried to sleep. The next morning the wait continued. Hamstring festered in the thoughts, they drowned her. They clawed up her spine and twisted in her gut. Where was Regan? The day passed in the state of pace, and Hamstring realized something new. She couldn’t wait for Regan to tell her what to do. Regan probably didn’t know herself. She could decide what she wanted to do. So Hamstring ran.

The night above the Irish moor was clear, the twinkle of stars a melody that Hamstring thought she could understand because her heart wanted to sing with them. Above her, Dubhe, the great bear in the sky, smiled down at her. The only encouragement she needed. It was a relief when she found Declan at the waterfall. It was late, much later than their normal meeting. There was a moment during her flight that she considered he may have gone home already. “Declan.” This time, she smiled. For once since the years she’d left modeling, Hamstring allowed her face to crack open with a true and genuine smile. “There is something I need to tell you.” Her heart mustn’t have gotten the memo that they were done running. It pounded against her chest.

“I’m not a banshee.” This true, she had decided, needed to come first. Hamstring was sure she loved Declan. But how could he know if he felt the same if she never told him the truth. “I’m a bugbear. It’s not a fae, I don’t think. I mean I can lie. I’m not lying now. But I’m a bugbear. My name is Nora. I hid in Regan’s luggage to bring her back to Wicked’s Rest. I’ve been lying this whole time.”

Declan spent the morning writing out his last will and testament, if it could even be considered such a thing. In reality, it was a letter to his sister– hidden with a nymph he knew he could trust. He didn’t know where she was, but figured that if fate had anything to say about it, it would find her and explain what had happened to him. The anger he felt had seeped through the letter, ink smudged from the corner of his hand as he wrote and rewrote things too quickly. You left me here to die. She got to live, and I get to die. Would he have died for her, anyway? Had she come back without the girl in tow? Instead of finding Hamstring among his purpose, would his blood be spilt for the one he shared blood with?

His mind wandered for hours on end, the ceiling of his room beginning to warp into nefarious beings– open-mouthed monsters, teeth slipping through flesh. Every time he closed his eyes, he was reminded of the cu-sith he and his sister had found, only to be drained of blood within moments of his mother’s view. Ní cheanglaímidd sin féin. Declan had cried that night with his sister’s hand in his. He had seen the worry built behind the mask she’d been forced to construct out of purpose and integrity. She always slipped with him, and it didn’t seem as though she’d be the only one.

The falls were the only place that Declan could put his mind to rest. It was where he could be alone, especially as the moon hung high in the sky, craters visible from where he stood beneath the wash of cold water. He traced his fingers through the surface of the water, memorizing the feeling. It was what he would hold onto when his final moments would find him– he would focus on this place. He would think of Hamstring, too. Of the way her hair curled behind her ears, the not-quite smile she would wear when in his presence, and the expression she would wear when she was not. (It wasn’t always at the falls that he caught glimpses of her– It was just where they could be.)

As his mind shifted from the horrors bestowed upon him in the quiet of his bedroom to the calming factors of what Hamstring could bring him, he swore he could hear her voice. He opened his eyes, surprised to see moonlight bouncing off the shoulders of the brunette girl that most days, he was sure he fashioned out of thin air. Of course she would be his downfall, but she’d been so much more than that, too. The smile she wore stirred something in him– he felt as though he were seeing something secret, the kind of thing that he’d need to hold onto and never tell anyone about. Declan leaned up out of the water, ready to ask what she was doing here, but his mouth promptly snapped shut at her admission.

I’m not a banshee.

She continued, and Declan felt as though splinters had rosen over his skin, poking and prodding. Wasn’t this what he had wanted? Hadn’t he hoped that in some divine twist of fate, that she would come to him like this? He stared at her for a moment, mind swarming with the words Nora and bugbear. Nora, he had heard before– not with her face, but with others. Bugbear, well, that was something new. Something uncategorized. If he were anyone else different, then perhaps he would have felt anger among the splinters.

Instead, there was a sick sense of relief.

If she was not a banshee, and her name was not Hamstring, and she had come in the ways of sneaking into Regan’s luggage, then she was not his fated end. The idea of death wasn’t what scared him in that moment. Instead, it was the idea that she would have to see him die.

“You know,” Declan stammered out, cool-guy facade broken completely, lip trembling. “She told you?” It was the only reason he could rationalize that she would tell him the truth now. She knew he was going to die, and that it would be because of her ‘activation,’ that it would happen. He cleared his throat, smoothing a hand through his hair, pads of his fingers digging into the back of his neck as he stood across from Ham– no, Nora. “You were lying, you are not a banshee, but a…” his eyebrows furrowed, continuing, “bugbear.” The relief he felt was overwhelming.

As much as he’d been prepared to die, Declan did not want to die. Though, he knew the truth of Nora’s words could never be revealed, for if they were, it would mean her untimely death. Regan’s, too, as he was sure she knew there’d been lies the whole time. Had she been trying to warn him? “That’s…” He cleared his throat, “fantastic, actually.” The laugh that erupted from his throat sounded disjointed, but it echoed around them as he reached up to hold his head in his hands, pads of his fingers planted on either side. “Nora– this,” he shook his head, “that’s your name. Nora. It’s beautiful, you know.” Where there should have been anger was nothing but relief, because the life that he had envisioned away from this place– it could come true with this news.

She told you. “Regan?” The question bubbled out of Nora in a burst of confusion. Regan had told Nora two truths and a lie. Truth: Nora was not listening to Regan. What was the point? All they did was talk in circles. An ouroboros of their own creation, a creature of endless negative feedback consumed too consumed by its own ideas that nothing could break the pattern. Lie: Declan was going to die. That was a common scare tactic used by Regan to get her way. Childish. A toddler throwing herself on the ground, coming up with any lie to get out of the chore of returning home. Nora would judge Regan for it next time she saw her. Maybe she would pull Regan’s hair for it, in the way of children fighting. An chéad scread. If it had been so real, why couldn’t she translate the word into something Nora would understand? They would fight in the playground, then Nora would forgive Regan, because Regan did give Nora an immeasurable truth. Truth: Nora loved Delcan. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him, her heart tapping, pounding, attacking her rib cage to jump out and to him.

Across from her, backdropped by the waterfall that was the cover of their story, she could smell Declan’s sweat. Nervousness, confusion, relief, acceptance, a drive-in double feature of emotions played across his face. And she was on the edge of her seat, waiting for the plot twist into a horror movie. But no fear came. “Not Hamstring.” She agreed. He was taking this well. Better than she deserved for lying for so long. Better than the secret movie she played in her mind, made of her imagination that she would never admit to anyone. The one where Declan knew everything and still chose to kiss her. “It’s alright.” Because there were days she would fight people for saying her name. But coming from Declan? Said in his welcoming tone, mixed with his Irish accent, it made Nora want to be Nora.

“There are no bears in Ireland.” It was a fact Nora had stated multiple times since coming here. The loss of her two favorite animals had weighed heavily on her. The comforting twist of pockets full of snakes, and the day dream that she wasn’t the only bear to human in existence. Gone with a change of location. “I want you to understand what bugbear means.” This was where the fear would hit, the bubble would pop, he’d condemn her. If Declan felt the way she did, it was because she was a banshee. Not a bear. Not a monster.

“Don’t be scared.” How many times had she said that to someone before transforming? Her clothes dropped to the ground around her. How many people heard it as a statement when it was a plea. A cry to belong. Don’t fear me, I just want to be seen, loved and accepted. I, like everyone else, just want to be known. For a monster, to be known is a sin. It’s creeping out of the shadows and revealing every grotesque detail that makes people cringe away. It was the sound of screams while a person ran away, leaving her alone in a ringing silence. “It’s just me.”

A rip. A tear. A pop. The bear was there. Bigger than the average bear. Red eyes. Claws too long. The only one of her kind. Sitting in front of the man of her dreams. Waiting for him to scream, to cry, to yell, to kick. Waiting for the moment her heart got its wish. It would beat its way out of her chest to him, and with access to it in his hands he would crush it. He would rip it in shreds and remind her that monsters aren’t worthy of anything but the fear she lived her whole life languishing in. Careful. Quietly. Fearfully, Nora waited.

“Regan,” Declan affirmed with a nod of his head. Nora seemed confused by her name, as if it hadn’t been Regan at all, but it should’ve been, right? It was clear that the white haired woman cared deeply for Nora, just as he did. What other reason would Nora have to come to him now? Was it on her own accord? Honesty prevailing over the frightening realization that she may die her should she not activate while his blood spilled beneath her feet?

But Declan thought back to the moments in the clinic. Before he had seen her face, he had heard her scream. It did not matter that it had been swallowed down, because it had happened regardless. He knew he was going to die regardless of this revelation, but for the first time in a long time, Declan felt hope. Hope, that maybe the scream had been for somebody else. He was delusional in thinking so, and he knew it, but he couldn’t help himself. As he looked at Nora, he wanted it to be true. He envisioned a life out of this place, had for as long as he could remember. He tried to paint a picture of where his sister had gone off to— was she in the west? In the east? How far had she gotten until she realized there was nowhere else left to run? That fate would slip its hand into hers no matter the circumstance? Had she prevailed in the way that he hoped he and Nora would prevail and triumph over that same double edged sword? Fate was both a friend and foe in this situation, as it could lean either way. Either fate could be kind to the two of them, or it could be incredibly cruel. He hoped for the former.

“There aren’t…?” It wasn’t something he had ever really thought about; never needed to. But it was clear that the reason Nora brought this up was because it meant something. Declan watched her carefully, head tilting to the side. “I would love to know.” He meant it. Sincerity leaked from him in every sense of the word. His gaze softened as he watched Nora, not quite understanding the show he was about to witness, but bracing himself for it regardless.

The water felt cold around him, boring into his muscle, bone, and sinew. He felt a new electricity crackle through his nerve endings as he witnessed Nora unclothe. Declan swallowed the breath he nearly let out, simply nodding at Nora’s instruction. He wouldn’t be scared. How could he be afraid of her? She was Nora, after all. The girl who had filled his days with a brightness he never could have imagined. They were fated, after all, and it was wrong to be afraid of fate, no matter the outcome. But oh god, did he hope that fate would be kind to them. Or, at least to her.

From Nora, a white bear sprouted. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t at least surprised, but the term bugbear meant more sense in that moment than it had before. Or, at least, the bear part. He saw no bugs. He had anticipated swarms of them, but all that stood in front of him from where he waded in the water was a white coat and red eyes, knowingly peering at him. Declan wasn’t afraid of Nora, he realized. In fact, it was the opposite. Elation filled him as he moved from where he stood in the water to the shore. The bear that had replaced Nora was far larger than he. She towered over him in a way that should’ve made him fearful, but instead… there was something else. A relief, perhaps. That she could protect herself in this world.

Carefully, Declan extended a hand, fingers threading through the fur between Nora’s eyes. It was soft. That was the first thing he had noticed. He flattened his hand then, scratching the spot between her eyes before dropping it back to his side. “How could I ever be afraid of you?” The lopsided grin he wore stayed put as he took a small step back. “You’re quite the being, aren’t you? But… I do have to ask… where are the bugs?” That still confused him. Why wouldn’t she just be a bear? What did bugs have to do with anything? “Can you understand me in that form?”

The fear never came. There was no bursting bubble that cascaded in screams and terror. Declan’s scent never even fluctuated to a moment of fear at seeing a bear appear before him. He still smelled like pure unscared Declan. The scent of a moving waterfall, sunny days lounging in the grass, crushed grass and twigs, safe and warm. The kind of smell Nora wanted to tell everything to, to smell at start and end of the day. To bask in, just thankful she got to be there. He’d moved closer, his hand reaching into her fur, the two of them, the bear and the boy standing in this picture-perfect moment. How could I ever be afraid of you?

A twist. A twhip. A zip. She was Nora again, human, with Declan’s hand in her hair. Goosebumps trailed up her spine, realizing a new self consciousness that only standing in front of someone whose opinion you care about, naked and exposed, can bring about. But why? Her eyes were locked on his, searching for any kind of descent. This was too good to be true, maybe he could make his fear, or something of the ilk. But in his eyes she found acceptance, kindness, and was that happiness? Maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way she did. Better yet, now she could tell him, because there were no longer lies standing between the two of them.

“There are no bugs.” The statement was accompanied by a half shrug. “If there are bugs, then I don’t know them. I’ve never met anyone like me before.” That could be expanded on later. Maybe. There was a lot more she needed to say, and a life story drop about her history with bugbears didn’t fit the mood. “Regan,” Nora began, searching for how she wanted to say this. She failed, diverting someplace else. “Regan told me some lie that you were going to die. She tells me someone is going to die any time she’s upset with me.” Another half shrug. “I was,” A pause, chewing over the right word to use. That was harder than she’d like to admit, standing naked in front of her crush, where words seemed to slip out of grasp. “I was angry. That she said that about you.”

Declan blinked, and suddenly the bear was gone. His fingers were strewn through her hair. He didn’t mention that the name Hamstring had been confusing, too. He figured it for a nickname, even if it had fit her. Nora was far superior, even if he had learned to love her with the former moniker. “That must be lonely.” Those like him were rare within the aos sí. Most were slated to serve their purpose and nothing more, and so they were often separated for the sake of preventing escapees. Or rather, that’s what his mother had told him. She kept him on a tight leash, and Nora appearing had been the only time it’d been extended, though he knew why. Would his mother know that he had felt hope like this? That his purpose dwindled, crushed by the adoration he held for the girl in front of him? If she did know, he would have been dead already.

As Nora spoke, Declan’s heart sank. If that were true of Regan, then he’d need to have a word with her. To use death as a way to keep someone at arm’s reach was childish, even he knew that. But he knew that Regan was not lying when she held his own death between her lips, splayed out for Nora to turn away from. “Nora…” He gave her a half-smile that insisted she understand there’d been no lie. “It… makes sense that you didn’t believe her, being a bugbear and not a banshee.” He dropped his hand from the side of her face to lean down, collecting her t-shirt she had thrown to the ground. He handed it over to her. “Regan wasn’t lying to you. The activation is in need of a sacrifice, and I am… was... your sacrifice.” That wasn’t the case anymore, was it? They could leave this place. Surely if Nora were found out, she would be held responsible. Declan extended his hand for her to choose to take, not wanting to breach her personal space should the news of this truth harm their relationship. “I would’ve died for you, if you gave me the chance, but you…” He let out a sigh, looking down at the ground. “I learned what it felt like to be alive with you, and I know that this must be something you’ve heard in movies and the like, but it’s true. I’ve lived a dozen lifetimes with you in the short weeks you’ve been here.” Finally, he looked up to meet her gaze. “It’s not something I ever thought possible. You make it easy to live, Nora.”

That must have been lonely. And in his voice, Nora heard the twinge of recognition. The unstated I’ve been too. Nora wanted to know it all. They’d spent a lot of their time at the falls talking, Nora had heard silly stories of his childhood, and Nora had told him tales of days with her friends. They had been sharing their lives with each other, but Nora wanted to know those times he hid so deep that he couldn’t share because she wanted to share those with him. She wanted life to be fully painted canvas shared between them, their past painted out fully so they could create their future on top of it. “Have you been lonely, too?”

She liked the way he said her name. It was selfish and silly. It sent shivers down her spine. Nora was disappointed when his hand left her hair, their contact a point of electricity in her veins. Her t-shirt handed back, she slid it on. Her heart sank as he spoke, as she learned what he was supposed to be. His hand held to her as he declared a fate too tragic to consider. “I don’t want you to die for me.” She grabbed his hand, once again, accepting his invitation into his world. “I want you to live with me, I mean,” The words had tumbled from her mouth, pollen in the breeze, bees in new spring. “I want to live a dozen more lifetimes with you. I don’t know how this works, but I know that when I’m with you I feel…” She struggled, once again, words her enemy refusing to be her friend. “I think I love you. I think this feeling.” She raised his hand to her chest, over her beating heart. It danced for him. Livelier than any dance she’d ever done before. “I think this is love. If they want you to die, then we’ll leave. We can leave right now.”

Declan hadn’t brought up his sister to Nora as of yet, but as he stood over her and her question echoed between them, he felt it a necessary subject to breach. “I had– have a sister. She left two years ago. Since then, things haven’t been the same.” The smile he wore faltered. He did not like to think of her and where she might be. If she’d been activated due to fate’s hand in a number of other ways, or if she was still running from her purpose. He thought of her as a coward then, but as he stood across from Nora now, hoping that he, too, would have a chance to leave this place behind, he understood her. He no longer pitied her inability to understand the world around them. His anger disintegrated, leading way to something kinder. Had he been in her shoes, he would have left, too. “It was lonely, up until you came along.” Honesty coated his tongue and tone as he watched her.

Nora grabbed his hand and he looked down at it. He committed the feeling of her fingers sliding through his to memory– the softness of her palm, the way her hand was so small in his. He squeezed it tightly, nodding in agreement with her statement. “I don’t want to die, Nora. I don’t think I ever did. I thought it was what was right, and I…” He swallowed hard, a soft chuckle bubbling up his throat. “Wanted you to become what you were meant to.” But Nora was not a banshee, and she was already something, built out of tightropes and high ledges. It was clear she lived life on the edge; something that Declan had never been able to do. But she was giving him a chance, now. Her words sat heavy over him. Not yet a plastic tarp submerged beneath water, but something of the like. He felt as though he might suffocate beneath the hope that she brought with those words. Instead, nodded, lifting a hand to cup her cheek. “At least we’re in the same boat, yeah? I dunno how this works either, but I know that when I’m with you, every day I’ve lived up to this point has felt as though it were for one reason or another.” Nora brought hope with her. The kind that looped through his ribcage. All of the fear, all of the muck, it disappeared the moment love graced his ears.

His hand hovered over her heart at her insistence, and just as he expected, it jumped beneath his palm. Another soft chuckle rose from him as he slid that hand, too, to cup her face. Now, with either palm overtop of her cheeks, he leaned forward and kissed her forehead softly, eyes closed. “Nora, I would love to leave with you. I would love to love you outside of this place.” He pulled back, still close, committing everything about her to memory, from the piercings to the deep, brown eyes that, until weeks ago, seemed to have a lifeless edge to them. There was nothing but life in them now, he realized. Declan wanted to have hope, wanted to succumb to the feeling that Nora brought with her, but at the back of his mind, he knew that his fate had been sealed. But maybe, just maybe, Nora would untie that red string and tie it to her own finger instead of the hilt of a blade. Perhaps it would not be the sharp edge of silver to guide across his throat, but the adoration he’d wear in every moment he spent with her. “I don’t want you to get hurt in the process. If I leave, if you leave– they will come after us. My mother will come after us.” His mother wouldn’t fall victim to another runaway child, and there was little that he could do to sway others in the manner that his sister had been able to. “But I want to, Nora. I want to leave with you.”

Layers of insecurities, secrets, and mysteries were shedding between them. Leaving them raw and vulnerable to each other. Nora had never felt so alive. There was a thrum vibrating from her, a thrill, a magnet that pulled her to Declan and sparked her. He spoke about his sister, the pain at the edge of his words, the loss. “I was lonely before you too.” There was more she wanted to say, there was a world of conversations. A galaxy of stories to know. She wanted to know more about his sister, about how he dealt with the loneliness, she wanted to kiss the hurt in his heart and promise him he’d never be alone again. But those were conversations for later. They would have a lifetime to color in the painting of their life.

Declan’s words were pastel flowers. They dotted the canvas in a melody of bright colors. They bloomed before her, a harmony of creation. Sprouts emerged and the sun sang. How could anyone think Declan’s purpose was to die when he was so grounded in life? The kiss on her forehead sent vines down her spine and flowers rooted inside of her, for Declan, from Declan, to Declan. “Dying doesn’t suit you, not now, not for years.” Not until they were old and gray, their painting complete, a shining monument to every moment they’d shared. They would figure it out together.

“Then let them come.” Nora jutted her chin, ever the image of defiance. “I’ll take you home with me. To Wicked’s Rest. If they come for us, they will meet the most loyal and protective people of their life. They’ll meet me and I’ll protect you. I promise I won’t let them kill you.” And she meant it. Conviction burned in her. He was her person. She could feel her canvas irreparably changed to include him in it forever. “You’ll be safe. You’ll love Wicked’s Rest. You’ll be able to choose who you want to be there. No one will ask you to die for them, and if they do I’ll break their kneecaps.” Nora’s hand never removed from Declan’s. She wanted to be closer, to hold him, to reassure him that this would be fine. This would work.

“Everyone there will be excited to meet you. Van is my best friend, she misses me. She’ll teach you about phone games, she loves them. She’s always telling me to play Honkai Star Rail. And there’s Thea, she’s sad, but she pretends not to be. She’s got a great sense of smell and is worried she smells bad. You can’t tell her she smells bad or she’ll cry. She’s kind, and accepting, and she’ll like you for who you are. Wynne is here, you haven’t seen them, but they don’t want to be here. They tried to tell me that they kill people here, but I’m not good at listening. They were supposed to be a sacrifice too, it’s what they were raised to be. They got out. You guys will have that in common. Then there is Teddy, they are sunshine wrapped in glitter. They’ll spoil you. They spoil everyone they meet. I told them I’d never had a mom before, and they said they’d be mine. They love me, and I love them. And they’ll love you. And then Emilio.” The words were spewing out of Nora, a swell of love and compassion for the people she left behind as she realized this wasn’t a pick and choose. She could have her cake and eat it too. The love of her life in the town full of people who loved her. “Emilio is grumpy and tense and always angry. But he’ll like you. He’ll like that you survived. He’ll like that you got me to come home. He’ll like that you care about me. He won’t show it. He’ll never say it. He’s… I wish he was my real dad.” These were thoughts she’d never have told anyone else, they would have cracked her cool-girl persona and left her ashamed. But there was no shame between her and Declan. Only the want to share. “I think he’s cared about me more than anyone else ever has. He’s always welcomed me. He’s always made space for me. He’s never asked me to be anyone I’m not and I think he’s a major part of what makes Wicked’s Rest home.”

The words were a waterfall, she wanted him to be excited about this. She wanted to show him more of what she loved, and how she loved it. She wanted him to see this portrait of her life and think that he could belong there. Want to belong there. To know that he could be safe with these people, and not here waiting to die. She wanted to roadmap their future because she knew from this point on it wasn’t her future. It was theirs. “I live in a crypt. But we don’t have to. We could get an apartment. Something real. My friends don’t like the crypt anyway. They don’t get it. It was the first place that was ever mine. Without anyone to tell me what to do. I could come and go. But..” Her words trailed off, she didn’t want to be alone. She wanted to be with him. She wanted to make choices with him. “Leave with me. I’ll protect you. I promise I will and it will be the best thing I could do with my life.”

Neither he nor Nora had to be lonely anymore. They could have each other from this moment onward, if he believed in it. If he believed in her. Oh god, how he wanted to believe in her. Declan hadn’t believed in anything but fate for so long, and here came Nora, a knife thrust into his ribcage in a different manner. She spoiled him with what if’s— a distant siren song. He wanted to believe in her. He chose to believe in her, no matter the fear that grew roots inward and upward. Nora spoke of defiance and of love, and he wanted to follow suit, so as she explained the people that he would love, he tried to imagine them. He tried to think of how he would interact with them, of how they would come to care for him. If they would come to care for him. Would they see him as the reason Nora stayed for too long? Had those same people been worried for her safety all the while she was here? He hoped so, because Nora deserved people who cared. As much as he loved her (and he did, oh god did he love her), he knew that the people outside of him— those who had seen Nora grow into the young woman she was today, those were the people that mattered most.

She spoke of them in a way that he hadn’t ever heard anyone speak of another person. There was so much hatred, so much… soot and mold growing over the aos sí that it hadn’t occurred to him that love could look like this; light on its feet and a myriad of colors. He wanted to love the way that Nora loved, and he thought that because he loved her, he would be able to.

Declan traced the space beneath Nora’s eyes with his thumbs, smile ever growing as she went on about the people who were waiting for her to go home. “I would love to meet them. With you, for you.” He wanted to learn how to love the people who loved Nora, and he thought that because they loved her, then they must be good because Nora was good. Despite the lies about who she was and what she was, she was good, and he couldn’t find it in himself to hold it against her. Banshee or not, he loved her. He would have loved her should she have screamed for him in a manner that would cause her to find a purpose, and he loved her even now, bear and all. “I want to go home with you, Nora. I want to see your friends, I want to experience this… place— Wicked’s Rest.” The name felt strange to say. What kind of place could be so wicked but have something so magnificent come out of it?

“A crypt?” He chuckled at that, giving her a firm nod. “It seems fitting, considering…” He gestured between them, dropping his hands from her face. He gathered her hands in his and pressed them to his own chest, still cold from the water he’d just been submerged in. “We could stay there, if it’s yours. I’d love anything that’s yours. You have to know that.” He traced circles into the palms of her hands, eyes never leaving hers. “To be loved by you, what a feeling. It’s the best thing I’ve ever felt, Nora.” Perhaps he was too naive, perhaps the bubble they had created out of half-truths and half-lies would keep them protected. Or maybe it would pop, and Nora would scream in anguish. But he had to try. He couldn’t give up, not on Nora. He wanted to try for her, to escape, to live out the life that she saw for them. That he could see for her. He imagined what it would be like to wake up next to her, the sun curling at the crown of her head. He wondered if they would find another waterfall, or if they would find something else; something distant from the memories they created here. All he knew was he wanted to create more. He wanted to love Nora for as long as she would let him.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, searching her face for something, anything that might tell him now was not the time. He wanted now to be the time so badly— wanted to be able to trace his lips as the moon pulled itself high into the sky and recall what it felt like to love her in a way that was physical.

“Yes.” Just the question left her breathless. Anticipation shivered in the air between them until there was nothing separating them. “Kiss me.”

Nora would save Declan’s life, treasuring it as the precious gift it was. Maybe she’d save Regan’s, if Regan decided to leave. Wynne would leave, safe and sound. This place would be a distant memory, sometimes whispered about at night, while Declan ruminated on his past. Nora would hold him. Remind him he was safe. She’d always protect him. Each day would be held in vigil for the banshees coming until time seeped between the cracks of now and then. One day they would forget to look over their shoulder because they’d be too caught in each other’s presence. Teddy’s family dinner would include an extra seat, next to Nora. They’d exchange knowing looks with each other while listening to Teddy’s grand words, and Emilio’s grumbles. Wynne and Ariadne would go on a double-date picnic with them. Ariadne would introduce him to American candy, while Wynne told him things they’d found surprising about non-cult life. Nora’s arm would curl around him as they listened. Van would cry when she met him, because she was happy to have them there. They’d paint on Regan’s apartment walls together while Van talked about the latest game that came out. They’d walk the graveyard at night, hand in hand, Babadook trailing behind. They’d talk about the day they’d had, and their plans for the future until those plans became reality.

Nora could see all of this in Declan’s eyes. In his touch. In the way that his lips brushed against hers. The feel of their skin touching. Each brush an illumination, a prayer, a hope for the future. She wanted it all. Sunset to sunrise, day after day, she wanted the moments shared and memories made. There, alone together under the stars. Her first love. Her first kiss. Her forever. Far from the town where banshees screamed.

#chatzy #chatzy: declan #listen before i go

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